Or several of them really. As her orgasm subsides Brenda is such a happy woman. The smile on her face, the way she pulls me to her, the sound of her b...reathing, all make me really happy and proud to be part of this moment. Unlike me, Brenda likes the taste of herself after an orgasm. I think it’s as much emotional as physical and she was really into it this time. Between kisses she touched my raging hard-on with one hand and said “let’s do something about this”. I quickly undressed and we went. She bought in a stool, to reach on top. But as she climbed up she realized there was a wobble to the stool. I saw her trying to continue to work even with the discomfort of the wobble, but when it got too much she turned to me and asked if I could hold the legs of the stool for her. Even though this it was not what I wanted to do, I agreed considering it would be rude to say a ‘no’. I came from behind and held on to the stool and she continued working. Being this close to her, the stench of. It all happened around the time when I had just turned eighteen-year-old. I was tall and lanky, an athlete and at the same time a delinquent; continually skipping class to hang out with friends at the local game room by the high school. Students would visit the game room during breaks in their schedule, after school, or simply skip class. It was the place to hang out and meet up with friends anytime, even on weekends.I was unimpressed with school and more concerned with being around friends,. Britney's lip curled up in a snarl and was going to yell at the girl for rushing her, but thought better of it. The magazine the man said he worked for sounded awfully familiar to her, so she figured she should check it out."Yes, that's fine. Send him in," Britney said, getting up from the chair and walking over to the dressing mirror. Britney took up a towel from the counter and primped herself up, wiping the sweat from her glistening body and from the top of her breasts underneath the tank.